


Backseat Blowjobs

by armsoftheocean



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: And Then Some, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gallavich Gift Exchange 2014, M/M, Smut, i'm pretty sure more than half of this is just sex sorry but not really, the title says it all, there is literally no plot to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armsoftheocean/pseuds/armsoftheocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, all Mickey wanted to do was enjoy the movie his boyfriend had forced him to go to. Until, of course, Ian's mouth is wrapped around his dick in the back of a movie theatre, his attention on the big screen completely redirected to the bobbing redhead around his cock. Priorities, and all that. </p><p>// Prompt: (paraphrased) smut, clothes sharing, fluff, movie theatre sex<br/>For Gallavich Gift Exchange 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backseat Blowjobs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stubliminalmessaging](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/gifts).



> Note from the gifter: Sorry if this is kinda off-base from the prompt you provided and I can't really write rough/kinky but I tried? ish. I ended up combining the movie theatre sex with a little bit of clothes sharing. 
> 
> Takes place about 5-6 years down the line so they have a happy/healthy/stable relationship, Svetlana and Mickey are divorced but all of them are on good terms blah blah basically an idealistic future.

 

"Hey, you wanna go to the movies tonight?" a voice came from behind Mickey, interrupting him from the thoroughly fascinating round of Angry Birds on his phone. Mickey replies with a noncommittal grunt, before swiping his finger across the screen.

"Mick, come _on,_ " the voice whines again as the pale, freckled arms arms wrapped around his shoulders, causing Mickey's finger to slip and the pixelated blue bird to sling across the screen in the wrong direction. Mickey groans and tosses his phone on the couch, craning his neck to face the grinning redhead.

"I was in the middle of something, asshole!"

" _Excuse_ fucking me," Ian retorts as he jumps over the back of the couch and sits down next to Mickey. "Next time you start groping my dick while _I'm_ in the middle of writing a paper, you can go jerk off in the shower."

"Please," Mickey scoffs, setting his feet up on their coffee table, "if anyone's sex-crazed it's you."

"Yeah alright, tough guy, keep telling yourself that," Ian replies sarcastically. He scoots closer to Mickey's body before settling his head down in the dark haired man's lap. Ian looks up at him, purposely widening his bright green eyes. "Come on, Mick. Just a couple hours… Yev's with Lana… we could have a proper date night."

Mickey lets out a huff of air, ignoring the feel of Ian's fingers tracing his bare arms. "We can use your ben wa beads tonight," Ian offers with a smirk, knowing that the dark haired man would acquiesce to absolutely anything if his ben wa beads were involved.

Mickey's eyebrows shoot up in interest and he suppresses the smile threatening to break out on his face. "Exhibit A for the nymphomaniac in this relationship," he says loftily, refusing to acknowledge Ian's offer.

Ian pouts his lower lip, still gazing up at Mickey, who looks down exasperatedly at the redhead. "Okay, _that's_ fuckin' cheating – you know you look like goddamn Puss in Boots when you do that."

Ian laughs, propping himself up in his elbows to plant a quick kiss on Mickey's lips. "For some strange reason, you being able to name Shrek characters turns me on."

"See? There we go again! Exhibit B for the nymphomaniac," Mickey insists, "and it's _Yev's_ fault, not mine. Can't help it if Lana got him hooked on that stupid fucking ogre."

"Blaming our six year old kid – real mature, Mick," Ian says.

Mickey laughs, pulling the TV remote out from underneath a couch cushion and flips through channels aimlessly. The next few minutes passed in silence with only the sound of a random sitcom filling the air. Mickey feels himself relaxing deeper into the couch at the prospect of staying in that night, with Ian as a comforting, heavy weight on him. His fingers subconsciously interlace themselves with Ian's; something that had become a natural state for them in the past few years. Mickey's attention is focused entirely on the television screen, until of course, the redhead opens his mouth again.

"So. Movies?" Ian asks again, his voice perking up. Mickey lets out a groan, his head falling back on the couch.

"If it'll make you shut up, then fine."

"Great! There's a 7:10 showing we could go to."

Mickey sighs, his blue eyes narrowing in on the clock. "You know we _do_ have a perfectly good flatscreen right here. In front of us."

" _Y-e-s,_ but do we have surround sound in a massive room with a floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall screen with the full IMAX experience?"

Mickey makes a show of glancing around their relatively spacious two bedroom apartment in downtown Chicago, before rolling his eyes. Knowing Ian would probably nag him for the rest of the night, until he would inevitably end up dragging Mickey out anyways, Mickey decides that it'll save him quite a few brain cells if he agrees now rather than later.

"I cannot believe I am putting on pants for this shit," Mickey mutters, before pushing the redhead off his lap. "If this movie puts me to sleep, you're taking Yev to all his piano lessons for a month and dealing with that insane teacher!" he shouts while walking towards their bedroom and peeling off his t-shirt in the process.

Ian's eyes follow the pale expanse of Mickey's back, before he disappears into their room, hypnotized by the quick appearance (and subsequent disappearance) of the corded back muscles tightening when he'd pulled off his shirt.

He snaps out of his reverie when Mickey appeared in the doorway, with his hair free of its usual gel, wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt that was a little too loose around the shoulders.

A slow smile spreads across Ian's face, and he quirks his eyebrows up. "Nice shirt."

Mickey looks down at the worn out shirt, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "It's a black fuckin' shirt with a triangle on it, Ian."

"It's _my_ black fuckin' shirt with a triangle on it, Mick," Ian tosses back, a small smile forming at the edges of his lips as his eyes traced the way the shirt fell loosely around Mickey's body, and the way the sleeves clung tightly to his defined biceps.

"Oh, we're getting possessive about shit now, huh? Don't think I haven't noticed _my_ chocolate poptarts going missing despite _someone_ saying they were 'unhealthy, processed, sugary garbage.'"

Ian scoffs, his ears tinging red at the tips, thinking he'd been much more stealthy with his early-morning poptart consumption after his runs. "I would never eat them!" he insists, his eyes widening in what he supposed was innocence, "they're so processed that they shouldn't even _count_ as food."

"You keep telling yourself that," Mickey mutters, shooting Ian another suspicious glance, as he grabs a scarf thats lying on the ottoman and snakes it around his neck, followed by his jacket.

Ian gives him a sunny smile with his stupid eyes all bright and cheery and so fucking _green,_ looking like the literal personification of what a unicorn in human form might've looked like. Mickey finds a smile tugging at his lips in response.

"You gonna keep smiling at me all night or are we leaving?" Mickey asks as he pulls on a pair of gloves.

"The movie doesn't start for forty-five minutes!" Ian exclaims, waving his arms in the general direction of the clock, "and we live five minutes from the theatre."

"Yeah, and it'll take you half that time to decide on snacks," Mickey retorts, yanking Ian off the couch and pushing him in the direction of their bedroom. "Get your ass in gear, Gallagher," Mickey says with a grin as he slaps Ian's ass, pushing him through the door's threshold. Ian yelps loudly, before shooting Mickey another shit-eating grin.

* * *

"It's so _cold,_ Jesus," Mickey groans as they push through the revolving doors and into the movie theatre. Mickey pulls off his gloves and rubs his hands together, his cheeks and nose bright red from the cold air.

"I can warm you up," Ian offers suggestively. Mickey lets out a short laugh, but doesn't pull away when Ian grabs him by his shoulders and pulls him into his side, linking their hands together. Ian ends up spending fifteen minutes debating on the merits of each snacks, before deciding on nachos and a bag of Twizzlers.

Mickey grabs the snacks and pulls Ian away from the cashier before he can change his mind, and walks into the showing room for Interstellar, which was still relatively empty. Ian ends up dragging Mickey to the far back ("The viewing experience is _ten times_ better at the back, Mick! You can see everything!").

They spend the next ten minutes arguing over the trivia questions being shown in the previews ("The movie's with fuckin' Chris _Evans_ , asswipe, not Chris _Pine_ ," "Not all of us spend our time jerking off to the famous Chrises, Mick") until the lights dim and the screen cuts to the opening. The pair settle into their seats, and Ian makes a grab for the nachos in Mickey's lap.

* * *

Okay, fine. Maybe Ian was right, and the movie _was_ good, though Mickey wouldn't breathe a word of that to Ian. He was so engrossed in the movie that he didn't notice the feel of Ian's hand creeping further up his leg, until it brushed across his crotch, causing him to jolt out of his seat.

"What the fuck, man?" Mickey hisses out, glancing around the theatre; it hadn't filled up much since they'd entered, anyways.

Ian's face remained entirely too focused on the screen, his face stoic save for his lips twitching at the corners. His hand continues to lazily work Mickey over the jeans, until Mickey's half hard and his dick is pushing against his jeans.

"S-seriously, Ian? Are we fuckin' teenagers or–" Mickey's harshly whispered words are smoothly cut off when Ian deftly unzips Mickey's jeans and reaches in, pulling out his dick, exposing his shaft to the cool air inside the movie theatre. Mickey's jaw drops open in shock, and his eyes flick across the dark theatre.

"Think of this as a make up for all the clichés we missed when we _were_ teenagers," Ian says lowly, his hand pumping slowly down the shaft, before tracing the thick vein on the underside of Mickey's cock with his thumb.

Mickey's heart rate speeds up, and he tilts his head back against the seat, letting out a soft murmur of approval as Ian traced the now-leaking slit of his dick with a practised, warm hand, smearing the pre-come messily around the engorged head. Mickey lets out another breathless gasp, biting down hard on his lip, drawing blood, as Ian twists his wrist near the base of his cock. Ian works his hand up and down Mickey's erection at a painstakingly slow pace, and tugging gently on his balls with another hand.

He could feel the pressure building in his groin, and the rush of being in _fucking public_ paired with Ian's citrus scent permeating the air around him caused him to thrust desperately into Ian's hand, teetering on the brink. His breath was shallow, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, a low, guttural moan being pulled from the back of his throat. He silently thanked the loud explosions on the screen at the moment because Mickey had given up trying to quiet the sounds escaping from his mouth.

Just as he felt the pressure threatening to explode, Ian pulled his hand away, shooting Mickey a small smile in the darkened theatre.

Mickeys jaw gaped open, his erection still sticking out of his jeans, the tip leaking with an exorbitant amount of pre-come, begging for release.

"Are you _blue balling_ me, Gallagher?" Mickey whispers incredulously, "in a fucking _movie theatre?"_

Ian continues smiling at him, before getting out of his seat and onto his knees, pulling down Mickey's jeans to mid-thigh and swallowing him in one long, smooth motion, before Mickey could even process what was happening.

A strangled moan escapes Mickey's mouth as the warmth of Ian's mouth encased his dick, and he buries himself deeper in the redhead's mouth, before thrusting in and out shallowly. Ian pulls back, licking up the leaking pre-come with his tongue and slurping messily, before swallowing again, humming around the base of Mickey's cock. The vibrations and the warmth of Ian's mouth paired with the coolness of the theatre cause Mickey's senses to jump into overdrive.

"Oh _fuck,_ god, your _mouth,_ I–" Mickey chokes out under his breath, before clamping a hand against his mouth and biting down roughly, preventing any more noises except soft whimpers from escaping. With another hand, he buries his fingers deep into Ian's soft hair before tugging slightly on the ends and running his fingers through his hair.

Ian increases his suction and hollows his cheeks out, swallowing even deeper so that Mickey's cock was pressed halfway down the back of his throat. Using one hand to cup Mickey's balls, Ian tugs lightly, teasing them gently. With a final hum and the long swipe of Ian's warm tongue, Mickey strained his hips up and came with a long, desperate moan, just as the scene on the screen cut to a moment of silence. Mickey sighs, sinking deeper into his seat, and grins down at Ian who was still on his knees, wiping a stray ribbon of come off his lips with his fingers and licking it clean.

Still smiling, Mickey glanced up to meet the stare of a couple teenage girls who'd turned around, their eyes aghast.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters quietly, tucking himself back in and zipping his fly up.

"What, that wasn't enough for you?" Ian teases, clambering back into his seat.

"No _that,_ that was great – I, uh, think a couple people might've heard us though," Mickey whispers back, his face flushing red at the sight of the giggling teenagers.

"Us?" Ian scoffs quietly, "movie theatre blowjobs stipulate silence, which is something I held up on my part."

Mickey rolls his eyes and leans over the armrest to kiss Ian, yanking his head in closer.

"Fuck it, let's get outta here," Mickey says abruptly pulling away, eyeing Ian's cock which was straining against his jeans. Shrugging his jacket on quickly, he yanked Ian out of his chair and pulled him out of the theatre, ignoring the grins the two teenage girls shot them on their way out.

* * *

"Did my blowjob blow you _out of this world,_ " Ian says, grinning widely, as they entered the elevator in their apartment building, with Mickey palming at Ian's crotch, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on his pale, exposed neck.

Mickey let out a slight chuckle at Ian's pun in between sucking a hickey onto the redhead's neck, who groans softly. "Yeah, your dick  _and_ mouth transcend space and time." 

Mickey grabs Ian's neck, attempting to pull him down to an equal height, huffing slightly at Ian's slow response, before attacking his mouth with fervour. Ian moans as Mickey's tongue teased Ian's mouth open, before plunging his tongue in. Mickey unzips Ian's coat, slipping his cold hands underneath Ian's tight shirt, and pulling him in closer, until his half-hard erection was pushing against Ian's crotch. He grinds down roughly, and Ian lets out a broken gasp as the friction causes a bolt of electricity to run up his spine.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open, and Mickey drags Ian by the arm and towards their apartment, stumbling slightly as Ian clings to his body. "You're like a fucking koala, man."

"Shut the fuck up, you love it," Ian murmurs, pressing his front flush up against Mickey's back, his erection rubbing against Mickey's backside. 

Mickey yanks a set of keys out of his pocket, shoving them into the lock and pushing open the door. The second the door slams shut, Ian pushes Mickey up against the wall, roughly kissing him and nipping on his lower lip. Mickey's mouth slips open as Ian's tongue traces the seal of his lips, before they're kissing messily and desperately. Ian bites down hard on the edge of Mickey's lip, drawing blood, before plunging his tongue in once more, causing Mickey to moan, his head lost in a place that was somewhere between pain and pleasure. The taste of metallic iron stains the kiss and both their minds cloud over in a sense of heady pleasure.

Mickey shoves his hands down the front of Ian's pants, making a grab for his hardening cock, giving it a few quick jerks as Ian moans into his mouth. " _Fuck,_ Mick."

They stumble towards their bedroom, shedding their heavy winter gear and boots along the way, before they're left panting heavily in their boxers and shirts. Mickey drinks in the sight of Ian wearing a t-shirt that fit him a bit too snugly, a smile spreading across his features, as he realises what Ian had done. Mickey pushes Ian back into the bed with a smirk playing on his features, as he raises his own shirt above his head, pulling it off deftly, which was followed quickly by his underwear.

"Nice shirt," he mocks, his blue eyes teasing, as his mind flashing back to earlier this evening. He places his hand around his own cock, lazily rubbing it as he watched Ian's gaze darken on the bed.

Mickey approaches their bed slowly before climbing into it, crouching over Ian and placing his knees around his body, so that Ian was caged in. His dick brushes Ian's clothed abdomen, leaving a stream of white pre-come on the shirt. He drinks in the sight of Ian's chest heaving up and down, the movement emphasized by the clingy fabric, and his green gaze firmly focused on Mickey's hard cock.

Mickey leans down, his lips millimetres away from Ian's, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Think my shirts look better on you than me," he teases lightly, running a hand lightly across Ian's pecs, before tracing the hard line of muscle down to his abdomen.

With one hand working Ian over his boxers, and the other slipping underneath the snug t-shirt, Ian whines desperately as Mickey continues to tease him with light touches.

"Come the fuck on, Mickey," Ian says with another groan escaping his mouth as Mickey gives Ian's cock a quick squeeze.

"I love seeing you like this, moaning, sweating, desperate, with your eyes hooded over and–" Mickey's words are abruptly cut off as Ian surges upwards, roughly capturing Mickey's lips with his mouth. Ian wraps an arm around Mickey's waist, while wiggling out of his boxers, kicking them off quickly. Ian's tongue plunges deep into Mickey's mouth, who goes soft and pliant while the redhead works him over. Ian rubs his cock against Mickey's, and Mickey lets out a loud groan as the friction builds. The second Ian realises Mickey's attention is thoroughly focused on Ian's mouth, he flips Mickey on his back with his arms above his head, and Ian looks down at him with a calculating grin.

Ian clasps a hand tightly around Mickey's wrists, holding him in place while he reaches over to the nightstand to pull a few items out of the drawer. Leaning down, he kisses Mickey deeply, this time slow and sensual, with a slow burn building in his chest and spreading throughout his body. With one hand, he quickly unhooks the metal, before snapping it shut around Mickey's wrists.

Mickey jumps at the feel of cold metal against his wrists, and looks up, startled, into Ian's smirking face.

"Promised you ben wa beads tonight, didn't I?" Ian says, picking up the string of black beads and a bottle of lube, waving it in Mickey's face which had lighten up in glee.

"Fuck, man, I love you, you know that?" Mickey says breathlessly.

"I would hope so," Ian retorts, popping open the lid of the lube, "otherwise I've–"

"Cut the chit chat and get on me," Mickey replies, cutting Ian off with a roll of his eyes.

Mickey attempts to flip onto his stomach – a difficult task, considering his hands were bound above his head – until Ian presses a warm hand on Mickey's abdomen, holding him in place. "I wanna see your face when these go in your ass," Ian says.

Mickey nods impatiently, and arches his hips off the bed to allow for better access. Ian places a pillow underneath Mickey's back to relieve some of the tension. Ian squeezes a generous amount of lube out, and rubs it against Mickey's entrance, inserting his index finger deep inside. Mickey lets out a sigh of pleasure as Ian works his fingers in and out, brushing his prostate lightly every few thrusts.

"Fuck, Ian, I'm ready just – just get the beads in," he moans out, as he grinds himself down against Ian's practised fingers. Ian crooks his index finger one more time, brushing lightly against Mickey's prostate, drawing out another moan from the dark haired man, before pulling out.

Ian squeezes out some more lube and tosses the bottle aside, and slowly inserts the first bead inside of Mickey.

Mickey's eyes flutter rapidly before drifting shut, and his lips gape open, a blissful expression settling across his features. "More," he mumbles out, and Ian obliges, pushing another two beads inside of Mickey in quick succession.

Mickey lets out another moan, as the sensation of being _so_ goddamn _full_ settles. As one of the beads brush against his prostate, a strangled groan escapes Mickey's mouth as his cock begins to leak heavily against his stomach, begging for attention. He tugs against the handcuffs around his wrists, a desperate whine falling from his lips.

Ian slowly pushes another bead deeper inside, hypnotized by the contraction of Mickey's abdominal muscles, before he meets resistance.

Mickey lets out a sound akin to a loud scream as the beads inside of him brushed against the bundle of nerves with every small movement of his body. The sounds escaping Mickey's mouth go straight to Ian's dick, which was leaking over the bedsheet, and Ian had to exercise all of his self-control to not come at that moment.

"Oh fuck, fuck, Ian, I need you in me right now, oh god, Ian," Mickey begins babbling, his head clouded over in ecstasy and pure, unadulterated pleasure. Mickey thrusts his hips up, hoping to meet something to relieve the tension building in his groin.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Ian mutters breathlessly, quickly pulling out the beads one by one, watching Mickey's face go slack at the sudden emptiness. Tossing the beads to the ground, Ian reaches over, patting the bed as he searches for the bottle of lube.

"Oh shit, I don't know where I put the lube," Ian says, his cock aching as he glanced around the darkened room desperately.

"Fuck the lube, Gallagher, there's enough left over from the beads – get these handcuffs off of me, and get the fuck inside me," Mickey manages to hiss out.

Ian makes a grab for Mickey's wrists, quickly undoing the handcuffs and tossing them on the ground, before quickly flipping Mickey onto his front. Lining himself up with Mickey's hole, he plunges inside with one long, deep motion, a relieved sigh escaping his mouth as he bottoms out.

His mind falls into a blissful haze as the feeling of Mickey's warm, tight ass around his dick clouds his senses, and he lets Mickey adjust to the feel before pulling out slightly, and setting a steady pace.

Soft moans escape Ian's mouth, progressing to those of a louder nature, as Mickey's ass clenches tighter around his dick, exerting a pressure that makes him see stars in his eyes.

"Fuck, oh god, Mick, you look so good," he manages to breath out between strokes, reaching in front of Mickey and grabbing his cock with his hand. Ian bends down, placing soft bites against the back of Mickey's throat, while jerking him off with his hand with rapid, unsteady movements.

Mickey replies with a choked off moan as Ian's cock slams deeper inside of him, brushing against his prostate with every thrust.

"Gonna – gonna come, Ian," Mickey breathes out, grinding his ass in a circular motion against Ian's dick, his hands gripping the headboard of the bed. 

"Yeah?" Ian manages to reply, "gonna come with me, Mick?" he whispers roughly, feeling his body approach its own peak. Mickey replies with another moan, and just as Ian feels his body spasm, he pushes against Mickey with a final few thrusts, Mickey's ass clenching tightly around his dick, causing him to come with a loud shout. Ian hears Mickey groan loudly when Ian comes explosively inside his ass. Mickey lets out a string of expletives as his stomach clenches, while Ian continues to frantically give Mickey's cock a few long strokes, until Mickey comes with a loud moan, coating Ian's hand.

The two of them lay there for several moments, before Ian lets out a carefree, exhilarated laugh against Mickey's warm back, "who knew blowing you in public would turn you on so much, eh?"

Mickey grins into the pillow, before pushing the redhead off of him, and flips around to face Ian's smiling face, their limbs tangled together, with sweat and come still crusting against their bodies.

"Fuck you, man," Mickey says without malice, before letting out a loud yawn. Mickey grabs the stained bedsheet, and wipes the come off of Ian's body and his own chest. 

Ian lets out a deep laugh in reply, before pulling the dark haired man in closer, so their bodies were flush against each other.

"Love you," Ian mumbles out as he presses a chaste kiss against the top of Mickey's head, running a hand through the soft, dark hair.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too. Now let me sleep," Mickey grumbles back playfully with another yawn, before snuggling in deeper to Ian's warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos would be cool :) sry for the shitty af title ended up changing it because the last one was hella irrelevant and this one's less irrelevant but still shitty.


End file.
